


The gift that keeps on giving

by Indehed



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indehed/pseuds/Indehed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's new guitar is more important a gift than he could ever realize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The gift that keeps on giving

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in half an hour. It was based on a random thought that entered my head on the way to work and at that point all I had were the first two sentences (which I thought might lead to character death but I can't bring myself to write that kind of thing!).   
> I figured at first I had enough material for a drabble, it went a little over that length but that's cos I suck at drabbles.  
> It's also not my best, just thrown haphazardly together and I'm not happy with it but I'm chucking it out because I've got other things to concentrate on.  
> unbeta'd etc.  
> Also, I have McBusted's 'Air Guitar' stuck in my head. It doesn't relate to the fic... it has guitar in the title though...

Steve didn't even know how important the guitar was to him until it was too late; until it had become a prized possession without him realizing and maybe the only one worth keeping if he lost everything else good in his life.

It wasn't about what it was, how expensive it had been or how often he enjoyed it. It was because it was from Danny - that the man had seen fit to reward Steve with such a gift for no reason and then somewhere along the way, the guitar had become associated with Danny in Steve's life. 

If Danny was spending time with Steve, the guitar often lay ignored while they sat outside drinking beer, or watched the latest game on TV, had dinner together, surfed, anything… when Danny was gone, when he was with Grace for daddy-daughter time, or just for once at his own home doing his own thing, that was when Steve would pull out the guitar and play. It was a way of still being with Danny, though he'd never even noticed himself doing it. 

Not even when he was being asked if he actually ever played it.

"I play it all the time," Steve scoffed as he took a swig of beer and looked over to Danny, appalled that he'd even question it.

"I have never seen you play," Danny said. "And I gave it to you ages ago, so I would have thought you'd have learned a song or two by now. And yet, every time I'm here, I just see the case leaning up against the wall in the same place as always."

"Trust me, I play it all the time. It's not my fault that the mood hits me when you're not around," Steve said back.

"So why don't you play something for me now?" Danny asked. 

And why didn't he? He could. He'd re-learned quite a few favorites after looking out some old guitar books from his teenage years that were still in a box in the attic. And it wasn't stage fright because he felt comfortable enough in Danny's presence to never be scared of anything. So why not play when he was being asked?

"I'm not in the mood. I mean, we're watching the game, having a beer, there's no need to play anything."

"So you only play when you _**need**_ to?" Danny had asked, eyes searching and making Steve feel like he was under scrutiny. 

"Something like that. Maybe it's therapeutic, I dunno."

Danny had let the matter slide with a quiet 'okay' and they'd gone back to watching the game. Steve didn't think Danny would give up on hearing him, but he was going to hold out until Steve was ready to do it and not pressurize him.

The stupid son of a bitch was always waiting for Steve to be ready. He'd push for Steve to get his head out of his ass, but he'd let Steve come to his own conclusions. It was annoying. It was frustrating. It was infuriating. 

Because Steve had come to his own realizations about a lot of things. About all the things that Danny had waited for him to catch up on, or put into context, or just man up about and maybe it was too late, because Danny had been shot, had lost a lot of blood, had died twice on the operating table and was now in an induced coma while he healed. 

It had taken a toll on Danny's body. He'd been 'gone' for so long that the doctors were worried about what brain function he might have when they finally brought him round. 

And being in this situation, in almost losing him… of looking into Grace's eyes and seeing her despair… of knowing it was reflected in his own and he couldn't say anything to make it better…

He'd come close to smashing the guitar. He'd had it in his hands, he'd clutched it tightly, he'd lifted it above his head and then he'd stopped. He couldn't. He couldn't break it because the guitar wasn't just a present from Danny, it _**was**_ Danny. It was the Danny he had when they weren't together and no matter what happened he couldn't lose that comfort.

Instead, he'd packed it up and taken it with him to the hospital where he'd played for an audience for the first time, even if that audience was unconscious. 

They said talking helped patients, maybe playing and singing could, too, and in those moments where his words dried up, he turned to the guitar and would play what he could to fill the void, to drown out the beeps of the machines around them. 

When the doctors decided it was time - time to let Danny breathe on his own, time to let him try and wake up - he'd talked, he'd waited… he'd thought it would be instant or at least faster than it was but Danny still lay there looking peaceful in slumber yet never stirring for hours. 

Once more out of words to coax Danny around, he'd picked up the guitar again and quietly begun to strum. He was most of the way through the song before movement caught his eye. He stopped; a bum chord giving way to his happiness at seeing Danny awake. 

But better than that, he seemed like he was going to be perfectly okay. 

"You played for me."

"Did I wake you up?" Steve asked, tears stinging his eyes as he took Danny's hand in his. 

Danny just humphed, lethargic and dryly mumbled out his words. "Doesn't count as being over stage fright, if you're audience is asleep. Start again," he inclined his head to the guitar lying prone at the bottom of the bed.

"I should get the doctor," Steve argued. 

Danny shook his head. "Not yet. Just play for me."

And as he did, everything inside him brightened and warmed as he saw Danny smiling back at him palely from his hospital bed and he finally knew the guitar was never a substitute for having Danny around him, it was an _enhancement_ for all the times they had together. And there would be many more times in the future, because Steve planned to make sure Danny knew just how appreciated the gift was. Not just the gift of the guitar, but of Danny himself.


End file.
